Mary Reilly Page #2

Mr. Poole questioned me about why

I was so long with you this morning.

It was the only excuse

I could think of.

So thank you.

Are you sure he's not out on the landing

right now, the virtuous Poole?

No, sir. He's gone to bed.

I thought if you'd like

to examine these scars...

Come here.

Raise your sleeve.

These go very deep.

Did they never affect

the use of your fingers?

I couldn't move my thumb for a while,

but gradually it came back to working.

Does it still cause you any pain?

Gives me gyp when it's damp.

Otherwise, it's right as rain.

What did this?

Come.

Sit down.

Oh, no, sir.

I insist.

Something to drink perhaps?

No, sir.

So how did it happen?

It was a punishment, sir.

You done that on purpose, didn't you?

No, sir.

What do you think...

...I'm made of money,

you careless little b*tch?

I'm going out now, Mary.

See what I can find.

He was gone some time.

He had a strange way of walking,

not exactly a limp.

But his footsteps...

I always knew it was him.

It was like...

...every step was calling my name.

Are you still there, Mary?

I found you something

to keep you company.

We wouldn't want you

getting lonely now, would we?

Was it a rat?

Yes, sir.

He knew the way I felt about them.

He knew I couldn't abide

even the idea of them.

And he knew, sooner or later...

...it was...

- Going to bite its way through.

Bite its way through.

Where was your mother all this time?

She was working.

She never got home till late.

She took me away that night, tried

to decide what to do for the best...

...and thought I'd be safest

if she put me into service.

What happened to him?

I never seen him again,

from that day to this.

It is a terrible story, Mary.

I can see why you were

so reluctant to tell it to me.

Thank you...

...for being so candid.

I shan't forget it.

I must go to my laboratory.

There's something I need to do.

You're up early, sir.

As a matter of fact, I didn't

go to bed at all last night.

You've been out,

by the look of your shoes.

Yes, I needed some fresh air.

I was thinking a great deal

about the story you told me last night.

You must've really hated your father.

I don't know, sir.

Surely, he was a monster.

When I was little and he was in work,

he wasn't so bad then.

The drinking did it.

You think it was only the drink?

- It turned him into a different man.

- A different man?

Yes, he even looked different.

What do you mean?

It was like he carried

another person inside him...

...and the drinking brought him out.

Or maybe set him free.

I'd like you to do something for me

in strictest confidence.

I want you to deliver this letter.

You know where that is.

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